


Doing It For The Vine

by bomper



Category: Kamen Rider Gaim
Genre: M/M, Vines, basically tentacle fic, lotsa vines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:17:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1982688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bomper/pseuds/bomper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first night after Takatora came back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doing It For The Vine

**Author's Note:**

> (schyeah I'm ignoring lots of canon here and making shit up but that's what fanfic is about, right? 8D)
> 
> (also, sorry bout the title)

Takatora seemed mostly together until it was time for bed. Mai, Zack and Peco had done a great job with what little they had, and every piece of bedding, every item of clothing was clean, but there was only so much they could do with what was available. So Kouta led Takatora to a futon in a corner of one of the tiny changerooms at the Gaim garage, apologised for how it wasn't very good, then made to leave. 

Surprised, he looked down at the hand on his wrist, then up at Takatora's face. 

Takatora's mouth worked, but nothing came out. "Or... I could stay?" Kouta hazarded, and was rewarded with a swift nod. 

"I don't plan on sleeping long. There's too much to do. But I could use a few hours." Takatora's voice was soft. It wasn't hard to see how badly he needed to feel normal, to speak normally, to act as if all he was doing was taking a few hours' break in between work. 

Kouta wasn't about to criticize someone for needing company. Not after everything Takatora'd been through. Hell, he wasn't happy about the times he'd had to sleep alone, either. He usually ended up curled into Mai's side, or with Peco and Zack using their 'sad friend' radar and holding hands across him. So he grinned, and stripped down to a t-shirt and boxers, then shut the door. There was no light to turn off, not in here. Not till they found a store with replacement light bulbs. But he could see well enough from the moonlight angled sharply through the window, making a rectangle on the floor. 

By the time he was back at the futon, Takatora was already lying on it, barechested, clad only in the lime green boxer shorts Mai'd found somewhere. (He... made a mental note to thank her sometime for everything she did to find them clothes. The colour was awful, but the cut of them, and the thin material, outlined Takatora's, ahem, shape, really nicely.)

(Not that he was looking.)

Kouta gave him a cheerful smile as he arranged himself next to Takatora. There wasn't a lot of room, and then two seconds later there was considerably less room as Takatora's arm slipped over his stomach. 

Kouta frowned a little, not upset, just thoughtful. He sneaked a look at Takatora's face. The guy's eyes were shut, and he was shaking, just a little. Maybe it'd be better if... if he didn't make Takatora worried about needing to speak or school his expression...

He turned over, backed into Takatora. The arm over his stomach pulled him closer, until finally there was no spot between them where they could've been touching, but weren't. 

"It's alright. You're -" No. Wait. Maybe that wasn't the problem. "I'm safe," Kouta finished softly. 

He felt Takatora give a deep, convulsive shudder, then he relaxed. 

*******************************************************************************

Kouta woke up two, maybe three hours later when a petal tickled his nose. What-?

He blinked, twitched his nose, then tried to swat at it. Except his hand wouldn't work. Maybe the other? 

No, that wouldn't work either. He blinked again, brain entirely sleep-fuzzed from being warm and comfortable for the first time in thirty-six hours or so. There was something. Something not right. What was it, exactly? He was still lying on his left side like he remembered, that part was fine. 

He lifted his head, made his eyes focus on where his hands should be. It was hard to see them under the layers and layers of vines which crisscrossed his shoulders, his chest, his arms, leaving only the occasional few inches bare and visible-

Oh. 

Oh, shit.

"Sorry," a hoarse voice next to him. Takatora, still pressed against him, but trying to tug the vines down, give him some leverage. There were vines growing all over the floor here, and reaching up to the ceiling. Even one enterprising tendril making its way to the window. "The forest gets possessive. Apparently I do, too."

There was such resigned self-hatred in his voice that Kouta turned, as much as he could, to meet Takatora's eyes. (Not much. Basically just his head.) " _You're_ doing this?" he said at last, still completely sleep -fuzzed. In a way it made sense, but that was mostly 'cos of the time, 'cos he hadn't had enough sleep. Maybe in the middle of the day it'd be weirder, but right now... he didn't find any real fear or irritation or anything in himself.

"...yes. I'm sorry. I'll get them to come off you so you can breathe properly." 

Kouta shook his head. "Er... I can breathe. I'm, um, this'd be bad in daytime if I have to fight, sure, but right now?"

"Right now?" There was a hitch in Takatora's breathing.

"Right now I'm comfortable."

More than comfortable, in fact. The vines were tight and rustly around him, but he didn't mind greenery, Takatora was warm against his back and side, and he also felt... felt weirdly safe. He couldn't move. Meant he didn't have to. Meant he didn't have to think, didn't have to react, didn't have to save anyone. Not right here. Right now. 

In fact he was aware of his misbehaving cock waving a little flag and saying hey I'm here, too. 

"Not angry," Takatora qualified.

Kouta nodded. "Not angry."

He didn't like that, that exhaustion in Takatora's tone. He could help with it in some ways in the daytime, but here, in the night, maybe he could help with it in another way. On an entirely different impulse from his usual 'toss myself into battle without thinking' impulse, he rolled over enough to press his lips to Takatora's. 

(And maybe.)

(Just maybe.)

(Maybe he wanted to kiss Takatora for himself, too. Because he could use reassurance and connection, too.)

Takatora exhaled once through his nose, then his lips parted. His tongue sought Kouta's. There was a hand on his cheek, and the end of a vine stroked through his hair, just over his ear. Kouta couldn't help but _moan_ into Takatora's mouth. 

Takatora pulled back, pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot just under Kouta's jaw. The vine flicked against the mirror of that same spot on the other side of his face. "Kouta," Takatora breathed. "May I..."

Takatora's hips moved, and Kouta felt extra warmth, extra resistance, pressed against his hip. 

Kouta swallowed. "Yeah. Yeah, um, please do. Anything." 

A soft sigh of need, and Takatora _relaxed_ in some weird way that sent vinetips all over Kouta. They came from his wrists, from the base of his spine, from his shoulders, and as Takatora moved himself on top of Kouta, Kouta could see them all flaring up behind him like wings for a moment. There were petals in his hair, soft tips brushing across his eyelids, leaves fluttering against his throat. Takatora must've been holding 'em back...

Kouta moaned again. 

He was on his back now, moved there effortlessly by the vines. His thighs were gently pulled apart, and two tendrils inserted themselves down the sides of his underwear to twist and wrench them off him. The fabric ripped without pulling against his skin in the slightest, and Kouta spared a dazed half-thought to note that even now, even in this state, Takatora was still trying to take care of him. 

Takatora's eyes were dark, hair wild, breathing hoarse. He was on his knees between Kouta's thighs. Kouta wasn't sure if it was purely the sight of him that was affecting Takatora, but then a vinetip insinuated itself between Kouta's lips, and he sucked on it, and Takatora made a strangled sound. Yeah. Yeah, that was a _good_ sound. He sucked more, enjoying the taste. Salty-sweet, wild, earthy. 

Leaves fluttered down in between the vines, over his shoulders, to flick against his nipples through what now remained of his shirt. Kouta's back arched infinitesimally. Would've gone further except he could barely move at all. Only what he was allowed, and that in itself was so fucking hot. 

He couldn't move. Had very little control. Only what he was given, only what Takatora wanted him to have. 

He was safe, and he was wanted, and he didn't have to do anything but react. 

_Takatora would take care of him._

Hands now, too. Kouta wondered if Takatora had been trying to hold himself off. Making a game of how long he could resist touching with his skin instead of his vines. Hands tracing down the lines of his hips, bumping against the vines on the way. 

"You're beautiful, Kazuraba Kouta," Takatora said hoarsely.

Vines wrapped around the head of his cock, and Kouta cried out. 

Takatora leaned down to suck, as the vines worked over the rest of him. There was a tongue on his cock, fingers caressing his balls, his hip, and finally finding one of his hands. Takatora took his hand gently with his own, as he took Kouta's cock gently with his mouth. Two vinetips arranged themselves on Kouta's nipples. It was then that Kouta discovered that some of these vines had suckers. Sharp twitches of pleasure/pain ripped into him as they worked at him.

There was something at his ass, now, another vinetip. Kouta made enthusiastic noises as one dripped its liquid into his mouth as its friend started probing his ass. 

Takatora moved over him, claimed his mouth, then pulled back for a moment. A sharp, searching look into Kouta's eyes, even through his own obvious haze of pleasure. Kouta managed a nod, because oh boy yeah he _wanted_ , that wasn't the problem, what was the problem was communicating in anything other than groans right now. 

Takatora smiled, and Kouta felt the vines tighten around him to gently pull his thighs further apart. He was tilted, pillow tugged under his head, then Takatora was pushing his way into him...

Kouta's cry was smothered by Takatora's mouth once more. Normally when he was being fucked, whether it was Zack, or Mai, or Rat, or Kaito, or anyone, Kouta made an _effort._ He'd lift his hips, use his hands, make it better for him and his partner, show his enjoyment. He liked that. No problem with that. 

But this?

This was incredible. Frustrating and wonderful and he was incredibly close to the edge already, because he couldn't move. He was being lifted and pulled and pushed onto Takatora's dick, which slid into him easily thanks to the strange liquid. He couldn't move. His comfort and pleasure mattered, but he existed for Takatora's right now. He was Takatora's to use, Takatora's to arrange, Takatora's, Takatora's, Takatora's.

He found that he liked being Takatora's just as Takatora's dick swelled in him. 

A vinetip engulfed the head of his dick, and he plummeted over the edge only a second or so after Takatora. Everything went white and tight as he shot helplessly, and he couldn't distinguish Takatora's shudders from his own. Pleasure whisked him away, and only began to bring him back again, slowly, pulsing, like the tide, after what seemed like an age. 

He could breathe again.

Takatora kissed him once again, shakily and carefully, then the vines began to retract. Ah. So he could control them more easily now.

"-no, it's okay. Leave, leave 'em till we wake up?" Kouta asked jerkily. 

As he drifted off, wrapped in vines and Takatora's arms, Kouta thought that the smile on Takatora's face was the most beautiful thing that he'd ever seen.


End file.
